What Could Have Been: TwoFaced
by CSIGurlie07
Summary: aka "What Pretty Much Was". NOT for those who are, somehow, someway, fans of EJ Barrett. Read it if you want, pass if you don't. Intended three-shot. Not related to Something More. Not Zibbs. Mild Language, but nothing we haven't heard on air before.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. I hit a rough patch with Apocalypse, so this is to both tide y'all over, and to help me vent my frustration at this season's poor plot choices. So sure, thing may be OOC, but it's what I see happening, so blame TPTB. Again, this is not a pro-Barrett piece. Not quite a basher, but she'd definitely painted in a good light here. Heck, she wasn't in a good light for the episode either._

_Slight spoilers for the episode, but largely AU._

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><p>Ziva powered through the Navy Yard, anger and indignation burning hot deep in her gut. Anguish that was all too familiar threatened to overcome everything else, but she refused to let it. She tried to tell herself that Ray wasn't worth it, but the fact that his revelation cut so deep blew that out of the water.<p>

But instead she opted to focus on the information. Ray had given her—a peace offering more than any desire to improve interagency cooperation. She tried to focus on what it meant: that God's-gift-to-NCIS EJ Barrett was wrong in her steadfast hunch the man they had in interrogation was their serial killer.

Oddly enough, it gave her a great deal of satisfaction.

"Ziva!"

Speak of the devil. A flash of red hair pushed through the bustling crowd towards, and though Ziva didn't slow to receive the team leader, the woman's tangent met hers with unerring precision.

"Ziva, I'm glad I caught you—"

"It's Special Agent David," Ziva responded tightly, fighting the irritation immediately sparked by the woman's arrival. "And I'm too busy for small chat." She brushed by the woman to enter the elevator, but immediately regretted her choice of transportation when the stranger slid in next to her, the car instantly becoming claustrophobic as the doors closed before Ziva could slip back out.

The elevator lurched into motion, and Barrett shot her a sidelong glance.

"Going to Gibbs then?" the smaller woman asked conversationally, noticing the button to the bullpen was lit. Ziva arched a brow at her, and she shrugged. "You looked pretty determined—I kinda figured it wasn't about getting back to a mountain of paperwork."

Ziva eyed her for a moment, but remained silent, even as she turned her attention back to the steely gray doors, stubbornly shut.

"Do you have new information regarding the case?"

Ziva paused before carefully responding, "Perhaps."

"What is it?" came the expected query, Barrett turning on her like a bloodhound to a scent. Ziva remained silent. "Special Agent David, you do know that every detail of this case goes through me, right? As lead investigator, you are obligated to share any new information that you acquire during the course of the investigation—"

"I'm not obligated to you in any way," Ziva cut in sharply.

"That's not what the Director says—hey!" Barrett's retort morphed into an indignant exclamation when the elevator opened and Ziva exited, heedless of the woman's words. Barrett stormed after her, her temper flaring.

"I am the lead agent on this case and you will render the appropriate respect—" Ziva ignored her, if she even heard at all. Temper roared into rage, then spilled over Barrett's tenuous self-control. Her hand shot out, grabbing Ziva's elbow with a vicious yank. "I'm talking to you—"

Her angry words were cut short by a hand twisting hers, and arm across her chest that slammed her against the nearest wall, pinning her there in a dizzying instant. Breathless, Barrett looked up into flashing dark eyes.

"I do not answer to you, Agent Barrett," she delivered, rage simmering beneath a tone of calm. "The Director on your speed dial may have ordered Gibbs to report to you, but I do not. I report to Special Agent Gibbs, and if he deems whatever information I may or may not have to be important to the case, then he will relay the information to you."

She paused then, and Barrett thought the woman may be done. But instead sharp eyes raked over her form, slicing through whatever image she saw. "As for _respect_," she continued scathingly, "I render it only when it is earned. And as of this moment, you have done nothing but act like a spoiled, over-indulged _child._"

Brown eyes glared into hers for a long, long moment, and Barrett had to force herself to hold the woman's gaze. Finally, Ziva released her with a final little push. Her point made, she turned to leave, dismissing Barrett both as an agent and a threat.

Again, her hackles raised, and pride urged her to speak before her common sense could kick in.

"The Director will have your badge," Barrett called after her. "Assault of a superior officer is taken seriously—"

Ziva rounded on her once more, slipping into Barrett's personal space, forcing the redhead to step back instinctively, until the wall behind halted her abruptly.

"It would take an act of god to rescind my Special agent status," Ziva said, her voice low. "It's in my contract—a little safety clause should the Director fall victim to any… undue influence."

Barrett's cheeks heated in a flush at the barely veiled insinuation. Ziva smirked, knowing she'd gotten under the agent's skin. She leaned even closer, never once dropping her gaze.

"And if you ever touch me again, I will show you what assault truly is."

And with that, Agent David left her a second time, this time allowed to catch Gibbs' attention unhindered. As he followed his agent to the other side of the staircase, he shot a glance in Barrett's direction, hard eyes judging her as a potential threat. Evidently, he didn't think of her as much of a threat, because he moved out of sight without engaging her any further.

Looking around, Barrett realized he wasn't the only one.

All across the room curious eyes stared at her. Some were smug, almost triumphant, in some battle unknown to her. Others held nothing but contempt. A greater number simply stared warily, as though waiting for her to snap. Looking to the MCRT bullpen, and saw McGee's gaze flick away to turn back to his computer with furious intensity. Even Tony, whose features had always been so open to her, readily shooting her a reassuring smile—his eyes were uncharacteristically shuttered, and he turned away from her after meeting her gaze for a long moment.

It was then she fully understood that she had made a grievous mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

Gibbs barely knocked before breezing into the Director's office. He'd been summoned after all, and thus precluded him from standing on full ceremony. Besides—he had a gut feeling he knew exactly why he'd been summoned.

The Director looked up from his paperwork at Gibbs' entrance, his features schooled into a mask of stern professionalism. He folded his hands over the mess of papers, his jaw set in obvious irritation.

"Have a seat, Agent Gibbs," he said, but when Gibbs remained standing, he didn't push the issue. "You feel like telling me why Agent Barrett tells me one of your agents assaulted her?"

Gibbs blinked, unsurprised and unimpressed. "You feel like telling me why your lap dog was harassing my agent?"

"You better watch yourself—"

"No." Gibbs' voice was hard, and fierce enough to give Vance a moment's pause. "You've deliberately kept me in dark on this case, fine. You're the boss. But neither you nor your little gofer has any authority to question my team without going through me first. And _she_ sure as hell has no business laying a hand on my agent."

"Agent Barrett is lead on this case—"

"So you said! She should have taken her issues up with me, not Ziva. Agent David was doing her job—_she_ was following the goddamn chain of command. I may be second string on this case, but my team is still _my team_."

"Agent Barrett—"

"Was way out of line—"

"As are you, Agent Gibbs!" Vance barked, rising to his feet at the challenge. The professionalism was gone, replaced with cold resentment and defensive pride. "Agent Barrett is to have access to every detail of this case, and is authorized to do whatever is necessary to get this guy—"

"Oh I can tell," Gibbs returned with tangible disgust. "Must be why she has you on speed-dial."

"She knows more about this case than any other NCIS agent—"

"Except that we've gotten further in the past three days than she has in the past six months, and every leads we've gotten has come through my team. The one suspect Barrett was willing to hang her hat on turned out to be a goddamned dud! She doesn't know how to interrogate, she isn't receptive to anything that could mean she might be wrong, and she's done nothing but butt heads the entire case—So you tell me, Director Vance… What the hell do you see in that girl?"

"Stand down, Agent Gibbs!" Vance boomed, his fist slamming down on the desk blotter. Gibbs stood tall, unwavering, but didn't say anything else. "You know what I see? I see an agent who follows orders—something we're in short supply of around here. You would do well to take a few tips from her, Agent Gibbs."

The two men stood tall in the ensuing silence, neither willing to concede to the other. In the end, Vance pulled back, though his mask of cool professionalism proving he hadn't fully given up the battle.

"But we aren't here about Agent Barrett," he said finally.

Gibbs' brow arched. "Aren't we?"

"We're here about Agent David."

"What about her?"

Vance met his gaze undauntedly. "She assaulted Agent Barrett—multiple witnesses confirm it."

"Yeah, I'm one of those witnesses. Any of the others tell you it was self-defense? Barrett instigated the altercation—"

"This isn't a contest of who started it. The fact is Agent David escalated the situation and became excessively violent without adequate provocation. Besides that, she was insubordinate."

"She was doing what she was trained to do! The chain of command is her to me—there's no in-between!"

Vance remained unmoved. "Her special agent status means she pledged her loyalty to the agency—not to you." Vance's eyes glinted coldly. "That said, I feel both you and Agent David need to be reminded that her status is still probationary."

"You have got to be kidding—"

"I assure you I'm not. An agent's only as good as he can follow orders. If she only answers to you, then she's a liability."

"A liability?" Gibbs stepped up to the desk, rage building in his gut. "She's done more for this agency than any other agent here, including your pet project. You know it—the whole agency knows it!"

"Save for your team, the whole agency follows orders—"

"Is that what this is about? Is SECNAV riding your ass to get your house in order? Is that it?"

Vance didn't respond, but when his gaze flicked away he knew he had him.

"Jesus. I get you're under pressure, but I seriously doubt he meant for you to use her future as collateral."

"Doubt all you want, Gibbs. Hell, you already do. But if you and your team don't play by the rules, there will be consequences."

And the gauntlet was thrown.

He was bartering with Ziva's future, to bring Gibbs and his team to heel. This wasn't about allegations of assault—it was about keeping up appearances, on a high profile case. All eyes, from SECNAV on up, were going to be glued to the investigation, and they want it cleared up as soon as possible. The pressure was on, and the trickle-down stress was in full swing.

"You're dismissed, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs met Vance's gaze squarely, but reading the unyielding authority that stood like a brick wall in the man's eyes, Gibbs knew there was only one thing he could do.

Without a word, he turned on his heel, and left.


	3. Chapter 3

Against all odds, the case was solved.

Only two more sailors fell victim before they caught the P2P killer, and in the end he'd tried to commit suicide by cop, but a quick intervention on Ziva's part had him incapacitated before he could raise his weapon to trigger the ensuing massacre. They now had a disgruntled, dishonorably discharged Navy SEAL in custody, waiting to stand trial and inevitably headed for a lethal injection.

Barrett's team had helped in the end, but Gibbs still couldn't ignore that most of the legwork had been done by his team, not hers. To be fair, Barrett's team were good men and good agents, but he'd never been a fan of giving credit where it wasn't necessarily due.

But Barrett received a pat on the back, and her team received achievement awards for their exemplary work.

Gibbs' team were invited to the awards ceremony, of course, where they stood in the back with expressions of muted tolerance. The case had put them through ringer—and not just because they'd put a hundred and ten percent into the investigation. They'd all felt the pressure from above, and they'd all chafed under the yokes placed on them by having Barrett and Co. take point.

They stayed just long enough to be able to say they'd been there, but retired to the bullpen as soon as they could to finish the paperwork—which they weren't even close to seeing the last of. They worked in silence, too drained to try to keep up their usual banter.

They worked steadily until a voice broke the unusual quiet.

"You all did a fine job," Director Vance declared, his tone warm with honest congratulation.

Their work paused briefly as all eyes lifted to where he stood, leaning casually against the cubicle wall at the head of the bullpen.

Gibbs took in his crisp suit and unwrinkled visage. He looked as he did when he first took the Director gig, before the debacle with Domino, and the attack that landed him in the hospital with a knife in the gut.

"Thank you, Director," he delivered cordially—the respect was not heartfelt, but rehearsed. He didn't have the desire or strength to engage in a battle of wills with the satisfied Director.

"I mean it," he assured them, taking a few steps deeper in the bullpen. "You worked with a professionalism that did the agency proud, and you saved countless lives by getting the P2P killer in custody."

One by one, Gibbs watched his agents return their focus to the work in front of them, completely unimpressed by the praise. Whether or not the Director noticed, he didn't give any indication either way. Unfazed, he crossed to Ziva's desk.

"Agent David."

Her dark head lifted, and her pen lowered minutely. "Yes, Director?"

Gibbs couldn't help but hear her words to Agent Barrett echo in his years from weeks back. She'd said she didn't give her respect until it was earned— he couldn't think of any way the Director might have earned it, but she'd rendered him the _appropriate_ respect... However hollowly.

"Your work on this case has not gone unnoticed," he told her, meeting her gaze. "Our successful apprehension of the suspect is largely in part due to your quick thinking."

"More like _all _in part," Tony muttered.

Vance ignored the remark. "You've proven yourself a valuable asset to this agency, and to that end, I'm here to tell you that you've outgrown your probationary term."

Everyone perked up at that, and Ziva shot a shocked glance to Gibbs, who shrugged. He didn't know anything about it.

Then she looked up to the Director, who nodded in affirmation. "As of 0700 this morning, you are hereby a full-fledged NCIS Special Agent. Congratulations, Special Agent David."

Shock quickly shifted into a broad grin as she got to her feet. "Thank you, Director." This time, it was heartfelt. Gibbs rose as well, as did DiNozzo and McGee, all three converging on their fellow agent.

"Ziva, that's great," Tony exclaimed, brushing past the lingering Director to wrap his partner in a proud hug.

McGee was close on his heels. "Congratulations, Ziva," he said warmly. "You've earned it." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "That means no more probie work, you know."

She grinned with a soft laugh, and patted his cheek affectionately. Then her gaze fell to Gibbs, and he nodded mutely. He didn't say anything, but when he saw her eyes spark with delight he knew she could see the pride he couldn't voice.

Then the Director's voice sliced through the intimate celebration.

"Pack your bags, Agent David."

All movement ceased. Gibbs watched as Ziva's smile faltered. Confusion clouded her eyes, and Tony moved closer instinctively. "Where am I going?" she asked tentatively.

"You've been reassigned," Vance responded, undaunted by the growing tension. "Turns out, an agent of your skill is in high demand these days."

"My… _skill_?" She didn't want to see where this was going, but Gibbs knew exactly what was coming.

"Your presence has been requested at Langley, and I'm inclined to acquiesce. You have a meeting with them scheduled for zero-eight tomorrow morning."

Ziva froze. McGee's stare flicked between Ziva and Vance, while DiNozzo's shoulders rocked back in realization.

"That's the CIA," he said, his voice low.

Gibbs turned to Vance, who met his gaze with a lofty one of his own. "You're renting her out to the CIA?" Vance didn't answer. He didn't need to. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Weren't you the one telling me to loosen up, Agent Gibbs?" Vance returned easily. "You and your team have been on the cutting edge of international intrigue these days—I decided one of your team would be the perfect ambassador to the newest effort in inter-agency cooperation." He tucked his hands in his pockets nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to the shocked expressions around him.

"That, and they requested her specifically," he added unapologetically.

Gibbs took a threatening step forward. "And you're just gonna hand her over," he clarified. "You can't touch her—she's my agent. She's on _my_ team—"

"No, Agent Gibbs, it's not your team. These people are _my_ agents, and I will utilize them in any way I see fit. And I have." He met Gibbs' gaze for a heavy moment, before turning back to Ziva.

"Agent David, you are expected at Langley at 0800 tomorrow. If you fail to make the appointment, you will be considered in dereliction of duty and will be held accountable under the full extent as applicable to an NCIS Special Agent."

This time, he didn't bother to stick around to witness the fallout. Without further ado, he left Gibbs and his shell-shocked team speechless in the bullpen, their gazes following his departure in muted shock. Then Gibbs saw Ziva's head bow, her shoulders slumping under renewed burden. Tony looked to Gibbs with wide eyes.

"Boss… Can he do that?"

Ziva's brown eyes lifted to him then, not-quite-hope gleaming deep in her eyes. But one look at him tamped that gleam out, leaving only muted resignation.

"He has the authority," he told them softly, hating himself even as he spoke. "I'll try to call in some favors, but something like this—"

Something like this was massive. This was more than just SECNAV, if SECNAV was in on it at all. This was Vance and whoever he was in cahoots with in the CIA. Hell, for all he knew, Mossad could be involved, in some twisted, convoluted effort to get Ziva back.

But even if he had all the chips in the world, it would take time to work everything out in his favor. Time they didn't have. It was already 1400; she was due at Langley in eighteen hours. It wasn't even enough time to get to the heart of all this.

"Don't bother."

Ziva's low voice interrupted his racing thoughts, and all three men turned their attention on her.

"Ziva, we're not going to let them take you," McGee told her fiercely. "They can't do this. Your contract—"

"Only protects me from getting fired," Ziva supplied, her voice low. "As the Director said, I am still an NCIS agent, and as such I am obligated to obey his orders." She moved to push past DiNozzo, no doubt to start packing up her desk, but her partner stopped her.

"Ziva, please—just… let us make some calls, see what we can do—"

"You don't get it, Tony," she bit out sharply. "There is nothing you can do—nothing any of you can do. It's done. The best thing you can do is just forget about it. Forget about me. About all of this."

McGee shook his head. "It's not like we're never going to see you again," he declared. "You'll only be in Langley; we could have lunch on the weekends—"

"Do you really think the CIA requested me for my desk driving skills, McGee?"

His features fell, telling them all that he wasn't as naïve as he was trying to be.

"I am a soldier, Tim" she continued. "A killer. That's the only reason they want me."

"Ziva…"

"It's okay, Tim," she said, her voice soft. "I came to terms with it a long time ago." Her gaze met Gibbs', over the tech's shoulder. "I was foolish to think I could be anything more."

But her eyes thanked him, for giving her the chance to try.

She moved to her desk, and gathered her jacket and purse. She didn't grab anything from her desk—not even the small Israeli flag sitting in her pencil holder. She tugged her bag onto her shoulder and draped her coat over her arm, as though it were the end of any other work day.

When she moved to leave, Gibbs intercepted her.

"I'm gonna fight for you, Ziver," he promised her. "I'll get you back."

Her lips pressed into a tight-lipped smile. "I don't think you can, Gibbs." She looked up at him, eyes bright with unshed tears. "Not this time."

Her hand brushed his arm in silent farewell, even as she pulled away to leave. Impulsively he reached out and snagged her by the arm, pulling her back to wrap her in a strong embrace. She remained stiff for a split second, before she responded in kind, pulling her arms around his waist. He could feel her tension, her apprehension, her shoulders nearly trembling under his hold.

"Stay safe," he murmured softly in her ear, only to feel her jerk—in a sob or laugh, he didn't know.

When she pulled away, she quickly drew a hand over her eyes, wiping her tears from her cheeks. She looked up at him again. "Could you let Abby know what's happened?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'd tell her myself, but I have to get home and start packing. I'll be at my place the rest of the day, so if she wants to come over…"

And Abby would want to, they all knew. No way would she let Ziva disappear a second time without a goodbye. They also knew that the reason Ziva wasn't telling the scientist herself was that she simply couldn't deal with her own emotions as well as Abby's. She wasn't strong enough. But come the Goth's visit later that night, she'd have had time to put up her walls, and reign in her anguish enough to reassure her friend.

But Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. I'll tell her."

Brown eyes looked up at him, silently begging for him to fix this. But this time, he wasn't sure he could.

"Thank you, Gibbs," she told him softly. "For everything." The last was directed at the others as well, as her gaze met theirs briefly.

Stunned, they wordlessly nodded, then watched helplessly as she left the bullpen. They stood frozen as the elevator doors dinged, opened, and then closed on her solemn figure one last time.

For a long minute, no one moved, and the room remained absolutely silent—besides them, the place was empty, in honor of Agent Barrett's team ceremony. It was eerily quiet, and now heartbreakingly empty.

In the end, it was Tony who broke the silence.

"What the hell just happened?"

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><p><em>AN: Okay, so this story kinda went off on its own little tangent. Don't ask me how these things happen, cuz all I'll say is "magic". I might do a sequel, I may not. Heck, I probably will, cuz Ziva at the CIA just sounds like fun. But then again, if people don't want to read anymore, I'd take that under consideration. If I did write a sequel, it'd be kept short as well. I'm trying to avoid starting another epic while I still have two fics open. :D _

_So shoot me some reviews- feel free to rant about Barrett, Vance, the season in general. This is a safe environment, I assure you. I only ask that you keep it clean. _

_Thanks for putting up with me, CSIGurlie._


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